Fangs
by ShadeOfTyranny
Summary: [Discontinued/Indefinite Hiatus] The White Fang are terrorists, Faunus who bring pain and fear to the populace. But what would drive them to such measures? The life of a Faunus is not an easy one, especially not when discrimination and racism lurk around every corner at Forge Academy.
1. The Tale Begins

So this is my attempt at a RWBY story.

In watching RWBY, I always wondered about what would drive the members of the White Fang to be willing to join, what kind of discrimination they would've gone through that would have pushed them to that point. We get a good glimpse of that through Blake, but she notes that she was "born into the White Fang" when it was peaceful.

For this story, I wanted to try and show what life for a Faunus would be like in a setting where Faunus discrimination is more obvious than it was at Beacon, where I feel Ozpin and the other teachers try to maintain a non-discriminatory atmosphere (and yet it still happens, as shown by team CRDL's bullying of Velvet. Admittedly, they seemed to be equal opportunity bullies, but Cardin was shown to be racist against Faunus in Oobleck's class.)

I'm not sure how often I'll be able to update, but I will try to update at least semi-regularly. My chapters will also likely be pretty short, especially for the time in-between; being a college student, as well as someone who's easily distracted, makes it difficult to sit down and write for extended periods of time. However, I will do my best.

Hopefully it's something people like, but who knows. Here's chapter one!

* * *

Would it really kill them to provide chairs?

It was a brief, pointless thought. One of the many that had been running through my head as I listened to the 'welcome speech' on the large grassy lawn.

It wasn't that I disliked standing, per se.

No, it was the crowd of people around me that was the source of the thought. Consisting of other students and whatever family or friends had come with them, they couldn't seem to keep still during the ceremony. Some were fidgeting in place, doing stretches or hopping from leg to leg, while others were trying to walk around to keep their legs from aching. Others, although thankfully few, had flat-out given up on trying to present a respectable image and had flopped down on the grass to sit or lay down.

At least with chairs, only the really disrespectful members of the audience would be doing anything other than just sitting and listening to the teacher at the podium talk.

Or at least pretending to. I could understand someone's attention wandering; even I was finding myself losing focus during the various speeches that were being given on stage.

I managed to pay attention through at least two teachers. When the third teacher started giving a speech that was almost identical to the previous two outside of its different wording, though, I found my gaze wandering over the crowd, eventually searching for any classmates in the mass of bodies.

After several long minutes, the last teacher finished their speech and walked off the stage to polite applause. Just as the headmistress stepped up to the microphone, I spotted the distinctive hair of one of my closest friends.

...One of my only friends, but I try not to dwell on that too often.

I didn't actually know if I was looking at the right person, but given how few people had bubblegum pink hair, I thought it was reasonable to assume it was her.

The headmistress began speaking then, and all of my attention went to her.

She was a commanding presence, both in appearance and personality. At over six feet tall and with lean but obvious muscle in her arms, it was clear she hadn't let her training slip in the many years since she'd stopped going out on missions. She wasn't a classical beauty, but no one would ever call her average, much less ugly.

And not just because they feared her retribution if she heard.

She had a fearsome reputation stemming from her years as a Huntress. Combined with her commanding presence and voice, the moment the first word came out of her mouth, the crowd of people - even those who had previously been chatting without any regard to discretion - immediately began deathly silent.

"Every year, I find myself in the same place, doing the same thing. Every year, I give a speech to you, the students, here on this very field. But despite this, it is always different.

"I have had new experiences since I was last here. I have seen new places, met new people, and done things I had never done before. And whether or not I realized it at the time, every moment has had its effect on me, teaching me new things."

"And so I stand here before you, more knowledgeable and skilled than I was a year ago. But not just I – you as well, each of you, are more than you were a year ago. Whether you are returning for another year of study or coming here for the first time, you are capable of more than you were before. Hopefully, when you leave here at the end of the school year, you will have learned more than you did last year, become more than you are now.

"Learn all that you can. Improve the skills you already possess. Become a better person than you are now, in all the ways that you can think of and some that you cannot."

"Welcome, and welcome back, to Forge Academy."

Silence.

And then one person started clapping.

It slowly spread, with each person starting slowly and then becoming more enthusiastic. By the end of it, the whole crowd was clapping, with a few people even whooping or cheering.

I just clapped, of course. The speech itself had been good, but somewhat dull. It was the headmistress's presence, the commanding and inspiring tone that she spoke with naturally, that had led to the overly enthusiastic response from the crowd.

The headmistress walked off of the stage, and the crowd took it as the signal that the ceremony was over and began to disperse. Most students went to get their room assignments and move in for the semester, but a good number remained on the field, chatting in small groups.

Among them I could see the same pink head of hair that I had spotted before, and I made my way over to it.

My friend was chatting with her parents when I came up behind her. Both of them saw me approach, but other than small smiles, neither reacted to my presence.

I tapped her on the shoulder, and she turned.

"Amy!" Suddenly, I had a body crashing into my chest, and I had to step back in order to keep my balance. I winced slightly at the impact, but ignored it and wrapped my arms around her in return.

"Good to see you too, Cerise," I replied, amused. She let go and stepped back, which let me get my first good look at her.

The time between last year and this one had treated her well - she'd gotten taller, although she was still about a good foot shorter than me. Cerise's outfit was one I hadn't seen before; she must have bought it after the last school year had ended. It was a black dress with crimson leggings and heeled boots, and the ensemble managed to cover everything all the way up to her neck.

Her most noticeable feature was her hair. Coming down to the middle of her back, the bright pink locks usually drew a good amount of attention, especially from people who had never seen her before. I didn't know if it was natural or artificially colored - neither of her parents had it, but that was no proof one way or another.

I never asked her about it, of course. It was only a passing curiosity, and I didn't want to be rude.

"Amy? You there?" I blinked, and noticed the hand waving in my face. My face flushed as I realized that I had completely zoned out when I took in Cerise's new appearance.

"I'm fine." I looked over at Cerise's parents, who just looked on amused, and then back to Cerise. "Let's go get checked in."

I turned sharply and strode off towards where I could see other students waiting in line for their room assignments. Behind me, I heard Cerise giggle quietly as she followed me with her parents.

They caught up within seconds, and after a few moments of silence, Cerise's father spoke up.

"So, Amelia, could your parents not make it to the ceremony?"

My lips twitched into a frown that I quickly smoothed out, but Cerise was looking directly at me and almost definitely noticed. Her parents didn't seem to, however.

"No, Mr. Rosario. They had work."

His brow furrowed. "Could they not take a day off? I realize that an introduction ceremony isn't as important as some other events, but it still seems like something they would want to be here for…"

I hesitated for only a short moment before I responded. "They were going to. They both were, but I told them I would be fine on my own." I shrugged. "You said it yourself. An introduction ceremony isn't that important, especially when it's only the year before my last year."

He looked as if he wanted to ask more, but thankfully fell silent.

Unfortunately, that killed the conversation, and we walked in silence for the rest of the time it took to reach the check-in station.

The lines were arranged in alphabetical sections, so I parted from Cerise and her parents with a wave and went to my line.

The wait was boring, although thankfully not overly long. When I reached the front of the line, I realized why - all there was to do was present your identification from the previous year and get your folder of papers with all of the information necessary for the beginning of the year. I moved a small distance away, and looked through the papers, briefly glancing at each one.

Room assignment, schedule, locker assignment, map of the school (that was incomplete, as I had learned - there was a handful of classes and hallways that weren't on the map at all. After I had discovered them on my own, I was told that it was meant to, and I quote, "test our ability to discover information on our own". As far as I could tell, it was because the teachers couldn't be bothered to update the map after they'd renovated the school a few years ago, or even have anyone do it).

I was rooming with Cerise, as we'd decided last year - students were allowed to choose who they roomed with if both of them made a request for each other. The choices only ever got denied if teachers saw a good reason not to, and given that the headmistress was rumored to personally go over such refusals personally? No teacher was willing to try to use roommate refusal to punish a student they disliked.

Which was a good thing, in my opinion.

Schedule looked pretty normal, lockers didn't change unless they got damaged, and that was pretty much the whole folder.

Just as I closed it and started to look for Cerise in the crowd, I heard a voice say my name.

"Oh, Amy! What a surprise to see you here!"

I shut my eyes and took a calming breath. I would need it.

Turning towards the owner of the voice, I was unsurprised and unhappy to see that it was who I'd expected.

Gilda Elix, a blonde diva who took pleasure in putting others down to make herself look better. Thankfully, she wasn't an elitist or rich, which would have put her at the top of the food chain instead of just above the middle.

Unfortunately, that lack of status seemed to only make her more determined to put down those beneath her. And I was the perfect target for her.

"Oh look, your tail's twitching! Gee, it must be tough living with something so annoying attached to you all the time!"

I was the perfect target because I had a tail, because I was different, because out of everyone at school, I was the one the fewest people would try to defend.

I was the perfect target because I was a Faunus.


	2. New Year, Old Prejudice

**Fangs**

Chapter 2: New Year, Old Prejudice

* * *

"What's wrong Amy, nothing to say? Fox got your tongue?"

Gilda was always like this. No matter the situation, she would find an opportunity to insult me, and almost always tried to find a way to reference the fact that I was a Faunus.

Even if it didn't really make sense in context, like this time. I pointed that out to her. "You do realize that's not how the phrase goes, right?" I said blandly.

Of course, that didn't stop her. "Oh, I'm _sorry_! Did I insult whatever weird pride you have? Should I go find a cat-person to apologize to?"

I clenched my teeth and clenched my hands into fists, my sharp nails barely not drawing blood. I couldn't let myself respond to her taunts any more than I already had, because I knew what would happen if I did anything that could be construed as an attack on her.

And so did she, as the wide grin on her face indicated. Gilda opened her mouth to make what would likely be yet another nasty comment, but instead shut it and went quiet.

Suddenly, a tanned hand slapped down onto my shoulder.

"Amy, hey! How've you been?"

I turned towards the owner of the hand. "Hello, Umber," I said resignedly.

Despite my tone of voice, I was thankful he had shown up. Umber was one of the few people that Gilda tried to act nice around, and so as long as he was here, she would at least pretend to be nice.

"Ack, Amy, so cruel!" Umber gasped dramatically, grasping at his chest. "You wound my heart with your words!" The grin on his face contradicted his words, of course.

I gave him a small smile, and responded in kind. "Then maybe you should harden your heart, because my words will only become harsher."

Umber gave a short bark of laughter. "Well, Amy," he said, "I see your tongue hasn't dulled any since last year!" With a grin still on his face, he turned to Gilda. Reaching a hand up to ruffle his spiky brown hair, he casually asked, "So, you hanging around any longer?"

"Ah, no," Gilda answered sweetly. "I'm sorry to go, but I really should be getting my things to my room. You know how it is; my family can only be stay for a short time, and I shouldn't keep them waiting any longer than I already have."

She turned to go, but only made it a few steps before she stopped short. Looking coyly over her shoulder past golden locks, she called out, "I'll be sure to see you later, Umber!"

Umber watched her stride away for a few moments, and then turned to me. "So, how was your summer?"

I looked at him, both amused at him and slightly pitying him. Umber was a nice person; Cerise and I often joked about him being somehow incapable of being purposefully mean. Sure, he could - and would - fight against other people, but he never did so out of any kind of malice. Unfortunately, this inability to be intentionally cruel seemed to have also lead to Umber being… rather oblivious. So despite Gilda (and a good number of other girls and guys) at the school flirting with Umber regularly, he remained blissfully unaware of all of it.

Umber was still waiting for an answer, so I told him, "It was decent. And yours?"

His face lit up, showing his obvious desire to talk about his own summer. "Mine was amazing! We went on a trip to Vale, and it was weird, seeing the differences between there and Atlas! My siblings and I even got to go on a tour of Beacon Academy with Mother! We saw all the different facilities they have, and met some of the professors! Did you know that Professor Port…"

I absentmindedly listened to Umber as he went on about all of the 'amazingly cool' things he got to see and do over the summer break. He didn't seem to notice when I lightly grabbed his arm and started steering him towards the school, caught up in telling me

"Oh, did I tell you about the student teams we met? They were great, and all of their weapons were so cool! There was a girl who had a shotgun-mace, and then one guy who actually had a _whip_, but it could fire these Dust-powered spines that exploded!"

"Umber." He kept talking. "Umber," I repeated. Nothing.

"Umber!"

"And I- huh?" He looked over at me, a confused expression on his face.

With a sigh, I asked him, "Maybe you should wait on the story? We do still need to get moved in, and I was hoping to get some tasks done today."

He shrugged and grinned. "As you command, Amy!"

I looked away, embarrassed. _How can he say something that weird without hesitating?_

* * *

Umber and I passed under the arch of Forge's gates, walking into where we'd be living for the next few months.

"So, what elective did you take?" Cerise asked, continuing to unpack as she did so.

Umber and I had walked all the way to the dorms, which were at the furthest point away from the front gates. (It was assumed by most that it was to prevent students from sneaking off-campus at night. Needless to say, it didn't really succeed in that.)

At that point, we split up. Male and female dorms were kept separate, with only a single entrance on the ground floor connecting the two areas. The dorms themselves were arranged by year, with first years being forced onto the top floor while fourth years got the ground floor. As third years, Cerise and I had a room on the second floor, which Umber had tried and failed to tease me about. He was in his fourth year, and was inordinately pleased at the fact that he wouldn't have to use stairs to get to and from his room.

Contrary to the stereotypes about women, Cerise and I didn't have all that much luggage between us. Cerise had a large suitcase and a second smaller bag, while I only had the one big suitcase for my own belongings. We easily made it up the stairs in one trip, although Mr. Rosario had tried to insist on carrying the larger of Cerise's bags.

I had to admit, the expression on his face had been amusing when Cerise lifted it above her head easily with one hand. It was as if he hadn't realized his daughter had been attending a combat school for the past two years, and therefore was much stronger than him.

After that brief amusing incident, we found our room, Cerise said her goodbyes to her family, and the process of unpacking our belongings began.

Which brought us back to where we were, with Cerise asking me about my elective.

"Literature," I responded, coincidentally at the same time as I was taking out the few books I brought. Most of my time outside of class was spent eating, studying, training and sleeping, but I figured that I might occasionally have the time to read before bed. "And you?"

"Art!" She almost sang the word. "I've missed being able to just relax and paint a pretty picture. It'll be nice to have that opportunity again."

I paused in my unpacking, turning to give Cerise a smile. "That sounds nice. I have to admit, my choice is mostly just so that I know I'll at least get _some_ reading done this year… Unlike last," I said with a grimace.

Cerise made an expression to match. Second year had been full of stress; it was the year we were supposed to come up with and create our weapons. Personally, I thought it was a bit early to craft weapons, especially since there were still a few students who had yet to unlock their Semblances. And given that a fair number of warriors created their fighting styles according to their Semblance, it made more sense to make the weapon after that point.

Regardless of the reasoning behind it, flawed or not, the result was a whole year of stress and hard work, making sure that each and every part of your weapon was as good as you could make it. Technically you could change it after that year, but the teachers also graded your weapon based on effectiveness. So if a student made a sub-par weapon to save time, with plans to replace the parts with higher-quality work later…

Suffice to say, the few students who had tried that in years past (long before we had arrived at Forge) had failed out of the combat school rather quickly.

The teachers used their stories as indirect threats if we didn't make our weapons flawlessly.

It was rather terrifying.

With a final shudder, I wrenched my thoughts away from thoughts of last year, and unpacked the very item that had resulted from that year's hard work.

Regia Sagitta. In one of the pre-Remnant languages, it translated roughly to "Royal Arrow", although admittedly, there was still a lot about those languages that we didn't know. Still, it had a nice ring to it, and fit the theme of my weapon rather nicely.

Regia Sagitta was a bow spear. I didn't have a fancy name for it, the way that some Hunters apparently did for their personal weapons, but I figured there was no point. The chance that someone else would recreate my design was almost zero, so why bother giving Regia Sagitta a description it would never need?

In bow form, Regia Sagitta was a combination of angled pieces angled to form the shape of a bow. At the center of the bow, a closed half circle arced out in the direction of the user, the grip being the piece that closed it off.

Unlike a normal bow, Regia Sagitta's draw power came from the string itself, not the limbs of the bow. While it had some flexibility, the mechanisms that controlled the string were what gave the fired arrows their speed and power.

To turn to bow form, the limbs of the bow straightened and came together, shifting along the half-circle section until they combined. (The string automatically retracted during the process, keeping it safe.) Then, the bow-grip retracted into the sides of the half-circle, and the blade extended out. The grip of the spear itself was within the middle section of the spear, and was revealed when Regia Sagitta fully extended.

My weapon's base form was simply its spear form without the blade or grip extended, with the handle of the bow extended to allow for it to quickly changed into and used in either form.

...Even in my own thoughts, I could never decide whether the way I thought of Regia Sagitta's features was too simplistic or too complex. But then again, most Hunter-style weapons are similar, so I wasn't exactly alone in having a weapon with oddities.

"Fawning over your weapon?"

Cerise's friendly teasing broke through my thoughts yet again. Internally, I berated myself for becoming distracted for the second time in one day.

Out loud, I replied, "To be honest, I'm still impressed that I managed to come up with the idea for it and build it." Cerise giggled quietly.

"It is more complex than mine," she agreed. "But you seem to like it a lot, so I guess it was worth it."

I gave a wordless sound of agreement. After that, the conversation seemed to die out, and both of us finished our unpacking in silence.

In a short amount of time, the last of my belongings had been taken out and appropriately placed. Looking at Cerise, it was clear that she was deep in the process of unpacking.

"I'm going to get some training in before the semester starts," I told her, making sure to grab my weapon as I stood. Cerise paused, looking up at me as she responded.

"Alright," she nodded and smiled. "I may try to catch up with you once I'm done here."

"No need to rush," I told her. Reaching the door, I opened it and stopped for a moment. Looking over my shoulder, I saw Cerise returning to the tedious task of making sure all of her belongings were correctly placed in the room. With a small smile on my face, I shut the door behind me.

* * *

"So, what'd you wanna do for training?" Umber asked, stretching his arms out.

I'd run into him - almost literally - just outside the dorms, and when I told him my plans for the afternoon, he decided to tag along and help out.

Which was good, because with a partner, I could actually train something I needed to work on.

It had been easy to find a free practice area, both because Forge had been built with combat practice in mind and because it was the day before classes started. Most students, like Cerise, were still getting themselves unpacked or settled in.

Responding to Umber, I told him, "Now that you're here, I think I would like to work on making my Semblance more useful."

I expected an odd look, but he just nodded and agreed.

"Sure, sure. What were you thinking?"

"Dodging practice."

This time he did give me an odd look. When he spoke, it was with a tone of confusion.

"Dodging practice?" He asked. "How's that supposed to help you with your Semblance? Doesn't really help you use it at all."

I sighed. I had hoped to not have to explain exactly what I intended to get from this training session, but Umber hadn't figured it out on his own.

"You do remember what my Semblance is, right?"

He was silent long enough for it to be suspicious. "...Enough."

I sighed again. "And by that I take it you barely remember at all." At his sheepish grin, I rubbed the bridge of my nose, tail twitching behind me.

"I guess I'll have to explain it to you again, then. My Semblance allows me to create a temporary illusion of myself, while turning my actual body invisible. I can only maintain the illusion and invisibility for a short amount of time, but it can give me a significant advantage in a fight. However, the moment anything disrupts the illusion-"

"It disappears," Umber cut in. With a grin on his face, he added, "Once you got started, I remembered most of what you told me."

"Now that you realize why I want to practice my dodging, can we begin?" I asked. I managed to keep hidden my small amount of irritation. I had explained this multiple times to Umber over the past two years, and he still managed to forget it.

"Sure, sure," Umber agreed, and pulled out his weapon.

Even after having seen it multiple times, Umber's weapon was impressive to me. He had named it Vulcanus, and the thing was a large battle-axe combined with a grenade-launching machine gun.

Or rather, that was how Umber described it. It didn't actually launch grenades, instead shooting out blasts of Dust-powered energy that exploded similarly, but that was a matter of semantics. Vulcanus fired its projectiles from the bottom of the weapon's shaft, opposite the end where the massive axe blade was. Along the pole were two handles that allowed Umber to hold Vulcanus steady while he fired it, with the higher of the two being directly opposite the blade. The axe-head itself actually only had a bladed edge, with the majority of it consisting of the rather massive ammo box that kept Umber from running out of ammo in a short amount of time, especially given that the ammo box was expanded to hold more than possible given its actual volume.

All in all, Vulcanus was a beast of a weapon, one that Umber had trained tirelessly to be able to use effectively. In exchange, once he had learned how to use it, Umber proceeded to become one of the top combatants in his year due to the immense power he could bring to bear.

And now I was asking him to attack me with it so I could get better at dodging.

"Ready?" Umber asked, weapon held up in preparation.

Taking a deep breath and releasing it, I left my own weapon in its place across my back, and bent my knees.

"Ready."

* * *

Please read and review! Follows, favorites, and reviews are all equally awesome because they let me know people actually are interested and like the story.


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